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torsdag den 10. oktober 2013

Uendelighedens dybde

I'm now standing on top of my dimension
And feeling dizzy thru the falling air
With all sorts of freshness in comprehension
Those in flying girdles from underground to here
Paper weighting thoughts of my ongoing dreams
Floating about in their rotating high flight
So my paper sheet the real thing now seems
What is this perception of its misguided light?

At digit skyscrapers I'm standing tall
In slippery slipper with a new vision
I might plunge in and take the heaping fall
Find those lost footsteps that once were precision
Come with me on my journey - to the end
Together we'll our own certainty bend
A poem by Peter S. Quinn


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